HENRY IV, PART I

A monologue from the play by William Shakespeare

HOTSPUR: My liege, I did deny no prisoners.But I remember, when the fight was done,When I was dry with rage and extreme toil,Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,Came there a certain lord, neat and trimly dressed,Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin new reapedShowed like a stubble land at harvest home.He was perfumèd like a milliner,And twixt his finger and his thumb he heldA pouncet box, which ever and anonHe gave his nose, and took't away again;Who therewith angry, when it next came there,Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talked;And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly,To bring a slovenly unhandsome corseBetwixt the wind and his nobility.With many holiday and lady termsHe questioned me, amongst the rest demandedMy prisoners in your majesty's behalf.I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,To be so pestered with a popingay,Out of my grief and my impatienceAnswered neglectingly, I know not what--He should, or he should not; for he made me madTo see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,And talk so like a waiting gentlewomanOf guns and drums and wounds -- God save the mark! --And telling me the sovereignest thing on earthWas parmacity for an inward bruise,And that it was great pity, so it was,This villainous saltpetre should be diggedOut of the bowels of the harmless earth,Which many a good fellow had destroyedSo cowardly, and but for these vile guns,He would himself have been a soldier.This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,I answered indirectly, as I said,And I beseech you, let not his reportCome current for an accusationBetwixt my love and your high majesty.